Not Okay
by Authors Tune
Summary: Angsty Naomi.  Set loosely post season 3 finale, Oneshot.


_Did you hear my anguished scream?_

_The silence._

_It was deafening in its emptiness._

She fell to her knees first, head tilted to the ceiling with the palm of her hands shadowing her deep, dark eyes. She felt her stomach cramp and clench and she was forced to swallow the bile that slowly worked it's way up her esophagus and into the back of her throat. It burnt her throat as she pressed her tongue to the roof of her mouth and contracted the tiny muscles in her jaw until the acid like liquid slid back to where it belonged. She shuddered at the taste. She folded her body forward, her forehead pressed to her knees and her arms cradling her head as if assuming a brace position in a plane, hurtling towards the hard surface of the earth. Maybe she was; preparing for _impact_. Only thing was, it had already occurred; her preparation was too late to save her from shattering. And she had shattered; disintegrating into a million pieces.

She heard the sobs as though they belonged to someone else. They were loud and oozed of devastation; tortured, low octave sounds emitted from the back of the throat. The way crying is portrayed on television is nothing compared to the reality of tears from a desperate woman. The complex combination of fear, relief and mourning couldn't be released in a few solitary drops on a smooth, cosmetic rich cheek. Tears didn't _well_ neatly in her eyes and then trail below her chin nor did they slip slowly from mascara lined lower eyelids with the reassurance of a gentle half smile to soothe the viewer. No; her tears fell like water from a firehose, fast and relentless; powerful and uncontrollable after hours of self containment. Her face contorted, eyes squeezed and mouth half open, gasping for air in between sobs that shook her entire body. Sweat gathering at her abdomen, wetting the shirt she had been wearing for over twenty-four hours. The energy it took to emanate such emotion was exhausting; she had run easier half marathons.

She felt hands on her spine first, fingers that softly ran from her hair line and down her back, stopping at the hem of her shirt where it had slid up to expose an inch of skin. "Nay…" The voice was so familiar and carried with it decades of comforting connotations. She had missed the voice recently, more than she was willing to admit. And it wasn't the voice she missed, it was the friend that was attached to it. "Maya's okay." She knew; she knew it all. It wasn't that she didn't understand how lucky she was, how lucky her family was. It was just holding it together, it took too much energy and focus. She couldn't sustain it anymore and then there was Dell. It was all _screwed up_. Their lives seemed to keep _screwing up_. She kept _screwing up_. "It's going to be okay." The voice was so uncharacteristically gentle and nurturing.

The gut wrenching sounds continued from her and she felt hands pulling at her shoulders, unfolding her trembling body. A cool palm pressed to her cheek, absorbing the wetness. "Help."

She folded involuntarily, her body supported until her shoulder came to rest on scrub covered thighs and her face guided to press into a taut stomach, flooded with deep blue. She didn't know if she was screaming unintelligible words and phrases or if it were just the deafening sound of her own cries that were haunting her. _Shhhhhh._ She must have been calling out, for what she didn't even know; she wasn't sure she had stopped. She wasn't sure she had started. She wasn't sure she even knew where she was. "Shhhhhh Nay. It's okay." She hadn't imagined the soothing voice, talking to her, trying to convince her that she was safe. If only she could remember _safe_. The voice became a little clearer, exposed through a rush of warm air at her ear. "I've got you." She tried to breathe; tried to draw in slow even breaths. She failed. _Like she failed at life_. She felt her body being every so slightly rocked. "Easy Nay, just breathe." Air in and out; it helped to have someone instruct. It's always easier to follow than to lead. "Shhhhh; I've got you, okay. I'm not going anywhere." Sometimes, she didn't need to speak to be heard.

The sounds ceased instantaneously and she struggled until the arms around her relaxed. She clawed roughly at air and skin until her hands found their grip, drawing in a fistful of material, fingernails scraping at the skin beneath the v necked collar. She pulled her body up and moulded her face to the nape of her friend's neck. "I need help, Addi," she whispered, frightened and still trembling with tear stained skin. "I really need help."

A feeling of security slowly and gradually began to take over her with arms that enveloped her tightly and contained her involuntary shaking. "I'm right here; I'm always right here."

"You have to make me talk; make me deal." She knew as she started to tread the line between desolate and coping that she would soon lose her truth. The honesty that is expressed when all the barriers are drawn down and the irrational need for guarding a carefully constructed facade disappears, is so brief. And she knew, she knew how she would evade Addison's every question and every offer of support. She knew that she would want to just forget the feelings that had been boiling inside of her for months now and it took a crisis to even get the emotion out for someone else to see. She knew that she would be embarrassed. She knew that she would want to hide away and pretend that she was okay. She especially knew that she wouldn't want to allow anyone in, when the morning came and her facade was returned. But she had to. _She was at the edge and people seldom came back from the edge._

"I will; I will," Addison replied gently, smoothing her hair and pressing a kiss to the top of her head. "God Nay, you scared me."

"I'm sorry," Naomi stated, slowly sitting up and wiping at her face. "I ah, lost it. Completely."

"Oh, I wasn't looking for an apology."

"I didn't mean; I didn't mean for anyone to find me."

Addison shook her head, "Don't. Don't hide from me; isn't that what you just made me promise?" Naomi shrugged, the transition was impressive; the walls erected with lightning speed. She leant back against the wall, smoothing her clothes and finding a tissue in her handbag to wipe at her nose. Addison let her go about her ritual, observing as she withdrew her compact and patted at her blotchy skin and then applying a light lip gloss, with slow and deliberate actions. Her hands weren't quite steady, observably shaky. "You finished yet?" Naomi glanced sideways at her, toying with her bag before resting it on her lap and nodding. Addison didn't move, just reached over and found her hand, holding it firmly.

"I'm okay," Naomi responded immediately.

"I'm taking you home," Addison stated, just as quickly. "Okay? With me, I'm taking you home to my place."

"I need to stay Addi, I need to stay with Maya and…"

"No," Addison interrupted, "Sam can stay. You, you need to...you need to not be here right now. I'm not leaving here without you."

A slow, relieved nod. "Okay."

_I am still so hurt_

_So betrayed_

_So damaged_

_Maybe a butterfly_

_Will flap its wings_

_And things will_

_Change_


End file.
